


Never again.

by Words_and_Worlds



Category: Vampire Knight (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Short One Shot, Slow burn... almost, just let me dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 23:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16670278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Words_and_Worlds/pseuds/Words_and_Worlds
Summary: Vertigo. Fever. Hurt. Thirsty…A heartbeat. A tenuous, barely perceptible breath.A warm embrace on her hips. Strong, possessive. Comforting.And this scent. Dizzying...so familiar.It's too late. Impossible. Not allowed. But......But, what if?





	Never again.

**Author's Note:**

> Text born out of ramblings between pen pals, during the French publication of the VK fanfic "Bloody Cross Chronicles".
> 
> A mere dream, taking its roots in Chapter 60…
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters belong to Matsuri Hino, author of Vampire Knight.  
> Writer: Elenthya  
> Translator: Vanamonde

 

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_xxxxxxx_

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**Never again.**

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Vertigo. Fever. Hurt. Thirsty…

A heartbeat. A tenuous, barely perceptible breath.

A warm embrace on her hips. Strong, possessive. Comforting.

Vertigo. Between her eyelashes, a blinding light. Pain still throbbing her head and ribs. Unable to think.

But this breath, this hand, this underlying strength carrying her as though she was weightless...she knows them. This unwitting gentleness, this hidden tenderness, safety made flesh. She cannot fear them.

And this scent. Dizzying...so familiar. Finally…!

She straightens up, barely annoyed by the unceremonious way He’s carrying her. Eyes closed, she leans on his broad shoulder, falling back just an inch. Her still-weak hands slid into his hair, stroke his neck before embracing him with a blissful sigh.

The hand on her hips becomes firmer, as if to hold her against him. But she’s not going anywhere. Not when she finally found him again. This scent. His scent...She missed it so much. Tears swell in her eyes, and she doesn’t know if this feeling crushing her heart is sorrow or happiness.

She nestles her face in his warm, beating throat. She inhales again, happy, serene, intoxicated by his presence. The embrace on her waist tightens up again, and then he shudders, electrifying her whole being. A tender, carnivorous smile blooms on her lips despite of herself. From the tip of her tongue, she tastes his skin, speaks to him in silence while he seems unresponsive. But there, just there, both invisible and vulnerable, bloods calls out to her. His blood. And it’s worth all the invitations, all the permissions.

Intoxicated, she parts again her lips, her fangs almost painful after such a long wait. And suddenly she hesitates. She suddenly feels this adored throat pull away, then someone staring her in the eyes.

At last his scent stops being at the centre of her thoughts. Dazed, blinded, she stares at him, speechless. Those amethyst eyes, unreadable and piercing. Indifferent...but only on the outside.

For, nestled against him like this, trapped in his embrace, their breaths intertwined, she can see this carmine glow tormenting him. This desire he’s hiding so well but, right now, she cannot miss it.

A short second passes, just long enough to decide. To take a decision.

To decide if she will initiate or not the ultimate gesture to end this fragment of eternity. She will play the surprised child, he will keep this cold mask of indifference everyone knows so well. He will put her down at her demand, she will step back a bit, give a stammering apology to which he will barely answer. And everything will be over, once more. Over before it could even begin...

** No. **

No. Not this. Not another separation. Not again. Never again.

She doesn’t say a word but her eyes convey her scream, along with a frown, a pout, a slight clench of her slender hands on his so broad, so strong shoulders. And in the amethyst eyes, the crimson glows grows stronger, both soft and imperious, annoyed and thankful.

The grip on her hips turns to steel. Her finger slid on his tattooed neck, get lost in his anthracite hair before gripping them, possessive, inciting. And all at once, in the same shaking, content sigh, they overcome the few inches between them.

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_xxxxxxx_

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**Author's Note:**

> Back to real life.
> 
> But if you like the style as well as slow-burn Zeki fanfictions, then go have a look on "Bloody Cross Chronicles".  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649461/chapters/39036592
> 
> Thank you for reading, see you very soon!


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